


The Person I Admire Most

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Romance, Season/Series 04, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-13
Updated: 2004-05-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 09:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12078141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Daph was the one who got the 800 verbal. Not Justin.Justin has a little trouble with an English assignment. His usual muse solves the problem.Includes a spoiler for season four!





	The Person I Admire Most

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Justin sighed staring at the blank screen on his word document. This was such a high school, scratch that, elementary school project. The person I admire most? This had Justin bitching for the hundredth time about why in the hell he had to take English. Sure writing could be an art, but not the way he did it. Well rounded students. That's the reason he got when he asked why in the hell he needed to take English. He was well rounded. Ask Brian. His cock was perfectly round and thick. His ass was smooth and round. See well rounded. He'd gotten his A's in high school English with BS reports, but this was college English. Okay maybe he was freaking out, but still. It was due in two days.

Just as he was about to scream staring at the bright white blank in front of him he was pleasantly sidetracked as the noisy loft door slowly opened. He glanced at the time, nine forty-two. Must have been a horrible day. He'd been gone since eight. Justin glanced at the man. Five o clock shadow worn far past five, and dark circles that Brian hardly ever had were beginning to form.

Justin smiled softly hopping up, paper forgotten. Brian had just turned around when he found his arms full of young bouncing blond. He smiled his hard day easing from his every thought. He hugged the young man awkwardly with his hands full of suit case, and groceries. Justin pulled back planting a gentle kiss on Brian's lips.

"Must be tired, Bri." He said concernedly.

Brian kissed his forehead. "Don't expect cartwheels. I picked up groceries."

Justin stepped back and looked up and down his lover. Brief case, and four bags. "Bri, why didn't you ask for some help?"

"I got it." He yawned as Justin took the bags.

"Have you eaten? Are you hungry?"

Brian set his brief case down following Justin to the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around his lover at the side board.

"Little bit."

"I'll make some dinner." Brian kissed right under his ear.

"Thanks." He whispered. "How was school dear?"

Justin elbowed him with a smile. "Good. Stupid English assignment. Gonna fail."

"Better not. I'm paying good money for that Stupid English Class."

Justin smiled looking through the bags he found a way to change the subject. "What would you like?" Brian squeezed his ass. "Later you'd probably fall asleep." That earned him a smack. "For supper?"

"I don't care whatever's fine."

Justin found some chicken. "I can make us a quick stir fry."

Brian kissed the top of his head. He couldn't keep his lips off his partner lately. Well truthfully whenever they were together they were together. Touching, kissing hugging. They'd always been that way if Brian really thought about it. Even from early on. The little blond couldn't be near him without Brian wanting to just grab him and hold him and kiss him. He smiled at the thought.

"Sounds good."

"So how come you were at work so late?"

"Bruner Cigarette Company. The most fucking difficult thing to make an ad for. Cancer by the stick. And I'd really rather not. Even I have a conscience Bruner wanted an ad, and he's fucking bigger than almost all my other clients. Kinnetik is too small to have as many clients as Vanguard right now so I need the highest paying ones until I have enough to expand and hire on." He looked at Justin. "You already knew that. Anyways he wanted me to give him a rough draft of something before he left tonight. That fucker knew he had me right where he wanted, and still does. I hate being in that position."

Justin turned from where he was cutting veggies to face Brian. "But if you don't get him you'll still be ok. Don't do something you don't want to. You're the best. Start playing your cards don't forget that there's a waiting list the length of P.A trying to get Brian Kinney."

Brian smiled, and yawned again. He put his forehead to Justin's before turning and heading to the couch.

"I got your stupid bill for your stupid English class. And your stupid life model class. Oh your Italian Artists in History, and intro to animation classes as well. I don't remember if those are stupid or not."

Justin smiled. Brian was paying a fucking lot for him to go to school. He'd dropped out once, and been kicked out once, and complained about school, the thing he'd fought so hard for that Brian had helped him fight for, all the time. Brian always paid. Brian never complained about his end of the deal. He threw the cut up chicken in the pan and the cut up vegetables in a bowl to add with the oil, and sauntered over to the couch. He straddled Brian's lean legs.

"I'm sorry I complain when you're at work all day working really hard, in part, to pay for my sorry ass education."

"It's not your sorry ass education. You're gonna be fucking great. Once you stop leaving on a weekly bases."

Justin smacked him playfully. "I do not. Just . . . sorry. Cause I know someone who paid his own way for four years, and never got a single cent from anyone, and never complained once."

Brian closed his eyes for a minute. "That doesn't mean that's how it's supposed to be. Your father should be paying for it. That's your right it's what fathers do. Either way just because he's a fucked up asshole doesn't mean you should have to work your ass off at twenty to pay for something because your dad makes too much money to get scholarships, and he won't be responsible."

"That's dad's job, but it isn't yours."

Brian kissed him gently. "How could I refuse to help in the creation of the world's best artist?"

"I love you, you know."

Brian smiled. "I know. It's pathetic."

Justin rolled his eyes with a grin. "You love me soo much."

Brian just chuckled softly watching his other half wander back to the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~

Justin separated the contents of the pot in half in two of Brian's expensive glass plates, and poured a little wine setting the table for two. He loved when they did this. It reminded him of jambalaya, and Brian letting him snuggle for the first time that night.

"Bri." He called. "It's ready."

He got no response, and looked over to the couch smiling softly. He wandered over and as he figured his lover lay fast asleep shoes still on suit, jacket, and all. He leaned down rubbing Brian's belly.

"Brian." He whispered. "C'mon get something to eat. Have a shower, and I'll rub your back in bed."

The man's eye lashes fluttered as he awoke. "What time is it?" He was obviously confused.

"You've only been a sleep about fifteen minutes. Foods done, remember? Stir fry?"

"Right, and Stupid English." Brian said with a husky sleep scratched voice.

Justin chuckled. "Right."

Brian sat up stiffly. "About that back rub?"

Justin kissed right under his tired eyes. "Promise."

~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~

Justin waited for his lover's reaction to the first bite of food. It was habit really he'd been doing it forever it seemed. Set it out, sit down, pick up fork, taste, watch Brian, and smile, slightly relieved, even though Brian always liked what Justin cooked.

"S'good. You used the new oil?"

"Mmmhmm. Its garlic-y I like it." Justin commented biting a bit of green pepper. He looked at Brian. He was a really good cook when he did it, but it was almost never.

"Come you never cook?"

Brian looked up quickly, and Justin realized instantly Brian took that the wrong way. "No, Bri, I like cooking for us. I just meant you're a good cook. How come you never do it?"

Breakfast at the diner as well as many other assorted meals, protein shakes, power bars, slim fast if he was real desperate there were always a couple around, take out so often Brian had probably personally paid for his favorite Thai and Chinese restaurant owners to send their kids to college, lots of water. He didn't eat much, went out a lot, and hardly ever cooked.

He shrugged nonchalant biting a piece of chicken. He'd never asked Justin to do this. Justin liked to and it was nice, and it wasn't as expensive as all those take out meals.

"You don't have to you know."

Justin sighed. He paid for Justin's school, and now that they were living together again the roof over his head. He held him at night, and made him feel safer than he ever had before, but heaven forbid Brian think Justin felt obligated. To do anything. Which he didn't. He wanted to.

"Not what I said." Justin told going back into silence as they finished their meal. It rolled off like water on a duck's back. They didn't feel awkward, like, ever no matter the conversation and when it was done it was pretty much forgotten because even though it was Brian Kinney's fucked up first try at a relationship, and Justin's first and, *gasp* dare he think, only love they actually had it down better than any of their friends.

Brian finished, and looked up at Justin watching him eat. Soft lips licked by his pink little tongue as he bit another piece of vegetable. Concentrating on not chewing with his mouth open. He used to have a bad habit of talking with his mouth full, but what a WASP-y mom can't handle a grossed out lover usually can. Brian teased him enough he finally stopped. He kind of missed it in a fucked up `what kind of feeling is that supposed to be' kind of way. 

He looked at his boy. He wasn't so shiny and new anymore. His questions weren't naive, and based on the assumption that every one's life had been perfect. Brian never answered him before on stupid questions about his family because Justin didn't get it. Jack hated him. Truthfully, and not many kids could say that, but Brian knew he could. At least part of Jack really hated him. Joan could have cared less. She was indifferent. She fought against an abortion but that was about all she ever gave him. And Brian hated that almost all of his strange little hang ups were over them. Hated admitting it even more. He wanted to forget them but all through his day the things he did now were directly connected to a lot of past. No bare feet outside because Pop shingled the house when you were 5 and the new one when you were 13, and you were still finding nails when you moved out at eighteen. No bare feet inside because dad broke shit all the time. Who knew when you'd get a sliver of glass stuck in your foot? And the fact that no matter what, the house was never tidy and it drove you crazy that the whole fucking household was too complacent to care. Or `You think you're special in your expensive t shirts? You buy packaged shirts like the rest of us and put the rest toward the family. It's about time you started pitching in.' oh and of course `you think you're so special because you got all those frilly scholarships. You'll never make it. You'll be right back here working for your old man instead of holding your nose high pretending you're better than me. You're just like me Sonny boy. You'll be back.'

Brian almost shuddered and let his eyes focus back on his boy. Justin had no links to his past, and as good as it was to have a friend like Mikey who knew first hand about it all. Having Justin who didn't was just as good. Justin was staring at him worried. He just smiled slightly.

"When all you do is cook for yourself and your sister cause she's too fucking lazy, and you're both starving, but Dad's out getting drunk, and mom's in getting drunk, I dunno, you don't want to when you don't have to anymore."

Justin watched as he grabbed the plates, and moved to the kitchen. He appreciated the tidbits when they were given. Brian would never lay it all out. He was strong, and reliable, and rich, and powerful, and made sure there were no cracks in the veneer for the outside world. Justin wasn't the outside world Brian was soft, and let himself be faulty, at least as much as he ever allowed himself after he left his old life, but he'd never relive it all because even a thirty one year old business man could have a hurting beaten ignored little boy hiding inside. 

He left it alone, though, taking it as it was; a little look inside. Not asking for commentary just a little bit more for Justin to put away, and know about his partner. Instead of dwelling on it Justin came up behind him smiling as he wrapped around his man.

"I bought oils at this body shop next to torso's old building." Justin told seductively.

Brian smiled thoughts of his past wiped away, and not in the nameless fuck, and drink your weight kind of way it used to be. "I miss the lavender."

Justin laughed. "I remember a certain beautiful ad exec saying it was girly."

Brian turned around pulling Justin into his arms. "But it puts me to sleep, and reminds me of Deb."

"Now I know why you won't use that one during sex." Justin teased processing that other little sentimental bit of info.

"Yea well it's really not the first thing I want to think of when I'm plowing your hot ass."

"Well either way there's some lavender in there. If you ask nicely."

Brian kissed him softly pulling Justin's sweet tongue into his mouth and suckling gently. He loved this mouth.

"Nice enough for me." Justin chuckled pulling Brian from the kitchen, and his dark thoughts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And so we meet again." Justin murmured sitting back in his chair in the place deemed Justin's work space a long time ago. He stared back at the blank page. He was encouraged now. Obviously he needed to get an A, had to show Brian that his care and tuition bills weren't going to nothing. That all that hard work, and late night hours that made the money for the tuition bills the man wasn't anywhere near obligated to pay weren't in vain. That the stiff neck, and numerous lumps of un-giving muscle that took two hours to work out and lots of not so pleasured moans was worth it in the end.

Then the light went on and the person for his assignment couldn't have been more apparent if they'd bitten him on the ass, which, when Justin though about it, they had . . . many times.

"You're such a fucking blond, Justin." He mumbled to himself typing the normal criteria at the top of the page.

Sitting back Justin stared again. Where the fuck do I even start? `I was seventeen when I met Brian. He popped my cherry and we fucked like rabbits in heat for an entire night until he drove me to school and kicked my ass out of his life. I continued to follow him or stalk him depending which word you want to use until he finally gave up, and let me hang out with him.'

Justin laughed before reminding himself his lover was asleep less than twenty feet away. It was funny, and slightly true give or take a few details, but he, for some reason, didn't think that was the way to go.

Justin finally just took a big breath stared down the glowing white void, and plunged in. No turning back. The result was impressive. Justin Taylor English 101-09 Professor Reginald Renault Room 215 Main Hall 

 

_ The Person I Admire Most _

_Brian Kinney is the strongest man I know._

_He may not carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he's carried the weight of Liberty Avenue on them at least once in his life. My name is Justin Taylor and I'm not the first person to do a report, as a love struck teen, on their ever so perfect boyfriend. I know that. I'm not even the first queer kid to do a report on his partner, lover, all the other things we get to call our significant others . . . instead of husbands and wives. I'm well aware of that as well. I'm also aware that my lover, my partner, my no where near husband is no where near perfect. He's not a god set way up on a pedestal even though at first glance it's pretty easy to put him there. He's rude. His tongue is barbed. One insult could leave you bleeding on the floor with no idea what hit you. He smokes like a chimney. He drinks like a Kennedy. He's not perfect. He's human. He's the person I admire most._

_I met Brian in a really strange way on a really strange night in, for a lot of people, a really strange place. Standing under a street lamp, planted on the sidewalk of Pittsburgh's very own gay ghetto, scared out of my mind. It was one a.m. on a school night, but at seventeen I finally decided I was just too old to be going on a hunch. I needed to be sure. To be absolutely positive I was gay. At the time standing on the curb waiting for a pick up seemed like the best way to go. Brian and everyone I know have since told me I was a moron, and I'm lucky as hell Brian's the one who picked me up that night. Brian picked me up. We're all adults here. I think you realize he didn't give me warm milk and a ride back to my mommy's. The way I was acting that night I'm amazed he didn't._

_I wasn't supposed to be anything more than a one night visitor. He took me home gave me what I'd come for, which was more than I ever could have imagined, actually. His son, yes his son that he shares with a couple of our closes lesbians, was born that night. We took a midnight cruse to the hospital where I named, again yes that's right I named, his beautiful boy, Gus. We got back finished my late night project and he dropped me off at school safe and sound, and absolutely sure there was no hope for me and that cute Norrington girl mom was trying to set me up with. I know that sounds horrible, pick up-have sex-go home, but that's how life is where we are, where we live, when you're young, and it's different, and a little crazy, but that's how it goes. I, however, had no idea. I was just in love with the beautiful, cocky, ever-smirking, twenty-eight, make that twenty-nine, year old who'd taken me home and shown me a world I knew nothing about. I was only a one night stand. That's all. Just a one night stand._

_Right. I was a one night stand. Brian Kinney doesn't do relationships or love or whatever. Truth is Brian Kinney doesn't do a lot of things unless you stand right in his face, and scream at the top of your lungs "I'M STAYING HERE GOD DAMNIT AND YOU'RE NOT PUSHING ME AWAY!" Or you just go everywhere he is until he finally let's you tag along. I tagged along. I tagged along while my mom found out, tagged along while my dad found out, and tagged along while my school found out. Somewhere in between my dad finding me out, and beating Brian to hell because it was `his fault' I was gay and my school finding out, and beating me to hell in locker rooms because I was gay I'd stopped tagging along. Brian had stopped just letting me follow. He let me stay with him- in his one man only loft, a feat only Michael, his best friend, got to do on a more than one time bases- when my dad found out and quickly freaked out. He let me stay when I told my mother I was never coming back. He followed me to New York when, yes, I stole his credit card and ran away. He brought me back, and found me a place to stay. I thought I would die when he didn't bring me back to his loft. It didn't matter then that he'd brought me to the same place that was his haven when he was a kid, and shit got too hard. A place with a mother, even if she wasn't my own, and an accepting father figure even if he was gay and dying of Aids. He made sure I had a home, and people who could take care of me when my own family was falling apart._

_He came to my senior prom too. God if you only knew how little Brian would want to be seen at a high school prom. He didn't go to his. He hated high school. It was the only thing between him, and getting out. Out of his house, out of his life, out of his family, just plain out. He told me no. He wouldn't come. I can't say I was shocked. He did though, or so I'm told, and we danced, and it was beautiful, people say. I don't remember. I walked him to his jeep after, made plans for later, floated on air as he kissed me, and started to walk back. Then Chris Hobbs cracked me in the head with a baseball bat. He took away my night. Took away the look in Brian's eyes, the softening of the hard face he wore for every one. He ruined something that was just beginning to come out right. Of course, that was his goal. Because who wants to see two fags in love?_

_Hobbs got off with community service. I found out later it was at AIDs hospice. Funny huh?_

_I was in a coma for two weeks and in rehab a month. I never saw Brian. I figured he just gave up. That's what I told myself to keep from thinking the truth. That he was broken. They told me the EMTs had to pull him off me, and that he was just screaming for help. They said he sat in the waiting room like there was no soul left in his eyes. And he wouldn't come see me and I couldn't see him. The first night I got out I found him at Woody's, our bar. I freaked out along the way because I had post trauma so bad I could hardly look anyone in the eye without panicking. I found him though at the last second before I was about to curl in the fetal position and just start yelling his name. He took me to the loft. His walls were back up, but I inadvertently got him to tell the story by telling him versions of what everyone told me. His eyes were haunted._

_He saw me daily after that. Until mom said stop. She was trying to protect me even though it wasn't Brian who caused the problem. I was always gay. Chris always hated me. Chris didn't play baseball. That bat was brand new. He listened, and did what she said was best. He stopped seeing me. I freaked out. She quickly realized her folly. Mom asked him to let me live with him. He never put me in the middle of a fight with mom. He took me in. Did everything in his power to get me to remember, and when I finally did he was there to help me put my broken pieces back together. I kind of forgot he would have broken pieces too, but Brian Kinney isn't one to fuss over his own emotions. He doesn't have a heart to break. It's what he wants people to believe, but we both still have scars from that one._

_I found out later he came to the hospital every night and watched me sleep._

_I dropped out of college my first week. Some of my motor skills were severely damaged. My right hand has never worked right since the bashing. He bought me an expensive computer that took almost all the pressure off my hand, let me draw for much longer periods of time. I screamed at him for it. I was too angry to even try. He never pushed. I went back. He believes in me so much. Even though I don't think I ever could, I'd hate to let him down. My dad stopped paying tuition about that time. He still hates Brian, still thinks I'm not really gay, wants me to go to Dartmouth, and become a business major. If I don't . . . there's really no point. I said I'd pay for it myself. Brian said he'd pay for it. I'm stubborn. I worked an awful job did drugs to stay up and nearly got myself really hurt. He never pushed too hard, and when I finally put down my pride the help was still there._

_Brian worked three jobs in high school, and played soccer for the scholarships. No one ever paid a cent of his tuition. He'd never call me spoiled._

_I left him. I left him because I'm nineteen, and nothing is ever enough. Brian has scars. Brian is terrified of the word love, doesn't believe in it if you ask him, was never given any if you ask anyone who's known him long enough. I thought I needed the word. I absolutely would die without it. I found somebody who said it to me, and left him. It's probably the most horrible thing I've ever done even though I'd never take it back. It taught us both a lot. Like that even if you'd punched him in the gut, and grabbed away his pride he'd still give you the shirt off his back or your tuition right out of his bank account._

_I got the words everyday. All I ever did was miss the way Brian told me without them. How I felt like he loved me all the time, and how this new man could never stand up. He couldn't. It was over in months and all I was left with was allergies from his cat, and a severe crack in my heart._

_I never expected Brian to take me back. When he did within a month I was pleasantly shocked. We missed each other, and I had no intention of mistaking words for the real thing ever again._

_That's no where near the end of the story. Not even close. He saved the world from an evil politician. But that's his story not mine. He got through cancer without missing more than five days of work. Mr. Tough guy doesn't respond to that though. He watched me battle my demons with Chris Hobbs, and never told me what to do . . . even when it was terrifying him. He doesn't like to talk about that._

_Sometimes he's such a smart ass I want to smack him. Sometimes he's so closed off he doesn't talk to you for an entire day. Half the time he's at work making sure everyone is taken care of. People he has no reason to help. People he has no questions about helping. A lot of the time he's with me kissing me, talking to me, hugging me, teasing me, loving me. Every time I look at him I see the person I admire most. I always will._

Justin read through transfixed until a voice echoed through the dead silent loft.

"What's the matter?" Came Brian's confused and concerned voice. Justin quickly pressed save as he finished the last line closing the document, and wiping the tears he hadn't even realized were dripping.

He looked up, and chuckled wiping his tears as Brian came and knelt in front of him.

"I thought you were sleeping."

"I had to piss." He told running a thumb under watery lashes. "Do you do this every night after I go to sleep? Why are you crying? Strait porn?"

Justin chuckled out a sob, and really was surprised he was getting so worked up. He'd always thought those things about Brian. Writing just made it so real, though, so powerful.

"No. I'm just being silly."

"Is it your stupid English? Bored to tears?" He teased lightly pulling Justin into his lap on the floor by the chair.

Justin nuzzled in the space right under Brian's chin. "Something like that."

Brian nodded. "Did you make yourself cry?" He teased lightly not sure what topics Justin might have been touching on in an essay.

"Yea." He whimpered laughingly.

Brian ran his fingers through the hair, finally starting to grow back, at the nape of his neck.

"Better now?'

Justin nodded. "How's your back?"

"Good as new. Somebody's fingers do great things to me."

Justin beamed. "Would that be me?"

"Someone's fishin." 

Justin rolled his eyes.

"That would be you." Brian whispered kissing Justin's neck.

"I say we go back to bed." Justin told kissing along the older man's jaw line.

"I say that's a great idea Sunshine."

~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~

Justin rolled over in his place in bed. His arm reached out instinctively for the man he slept next to every night. His eyes opened blearily when all he felt was cold sheets. He always knew when Brian wasn't with him. He glanced at the clock one a.m. `Must still be working on his reports.' Justin got up intending to make Brian some tea. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what the man sitting at his desk was reading.

"Bri?" He asked quietly unsure of what to say. 

Brian looked up, and Justin's heart nearly stopped to see him rub away the moisture in his eyes. He kept it from his voice, though, he always did.

"My AC adapter wasn't working so I was getting yours. I saw my name . . ." 

Justin wanted to laugh at how adorable he looked. He hardly ever saw Brian look at him like that with hand caught in the cookie jar eyes. Justin walked over and looked down on the paper.

"Stupid English Assignment?"

Justin chuckled. "Not so much. Once I thought about it."

"Fucker gave you an A-."

Justin laughed quite loud. "I think I'll take it. I have this problem with fragment sentences."

Brian pulled his blond lover into his lap rubbing his thigh lightly. "Thanks." He whispered looking back at the paper tracing the letters with his fingers.

Justin took Brian's chin pulling his face up to meet his eyes. "Thank you. For everything."

They kissed lightly, lovingly. Pulling back Brian watched Justin as he skimmed over his cover page with a small smile, and traced the bright red A aimlessly. Justin felt the gaze and blushed slightly caught, it seemed, admiring his work.

"What?" He asked embarrassment raising the pitch of his voice slightly.

Brian smiled rubbing the red tint on his cheeks before planting a soft kiss in the same spot. "Just watching the person I admire most."


End file.
